Harry Potter and the Red Contact Lenses
by Norbert for President
Summary: Harry goes to the opticians and is happily spying on random Muggles when Voldemort inconsiderately comes in and tries to kill him. I ask you?


Harry Potter and the Red Contact Lenses  
  
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything else you recognize from the books belong to J. K. Rowling. Macavity and any other Jellicle cats featured belong to T. S. Eliot.  
  
Harry needed new glasses. Come to think of it, he probably should have got new glasses years ago, but thanks to Hermione's enlargement charm, they did fit. They just weren't strong enough.  
  
He'd booked an appointment at a Muggle opticians and was sitting in the waiting room, watching the Muggles also needing new glasses. The person who really caught his eye was small, with a face like a rat, and was holding a bundle.  
  
(As readers of Harry Potter will know, Harry is not incredibly intelligent, for example, why did he feel the need to summon his Firebolt when he could have simply said: 'Accio, egg.'? He therefore failed to realize what I'm sure you've grasped already, that this man was Wormtail).  
  
Harry's attention wandered fairly quickly, and soon he was sitting, twiddling his thumbs, glancing through magazines, and spying on people (a trait he'd inherited from Aunt Petunia), waiting his turn.  
  
Out came the opticians assistant. Harry hoped it was his turn, but no.  
  
'Macavity Jellicle' said the man.  
  
A rather suspicious shaped something stood up and inched toward the door. Was it a bird? Was it a plane? No, it was just a cat in need of counselling. A lot of counselling.  
  
Harry waited. And waited. About half an hour later Macavity emerged carrying the opticians chair and glasses, which he insisted were 'complimentary'. He then legged it out of the shop, just before the opticians was inundated with Scotland Yard officials, and several members of the FBI, wearing dark glasses, who stole a few pairs of frames whilst pretending to search for the cat.  
  
'Macavity isn't here.' said the most important official. Being the helpful boy he was, and with Aunt Petunia's genes screaming inside him, Harry would have tried to help, but at that moment, the assistant came out, and said:  
  
'Harry Potter.'  
  
Harry rose from his seat, reluctantly put down his Car of the Year magazine, which was quickly snatched by Peter Pettigrew, who sat down to read about the latest Volvo model, while Harry slowly entered the optician's consulting room.  
  
'Would you mind standing, up? Macavity nicked the chair.' Said the optician, his voice muffled by a mask.  
  
'Kay,' said Harry.  
  
'And don't use that annoying half syllable in my presence!' said the optician, swivelling to face Harry. Harry gasped.  
  
'You!' he shouted.  
  
'Of course, Potter, I don't spend ALL my time making potions, do I?'  
  
'Er . . .' Harry resisted the urge to say 'yes', but Snape was already swooping down on him like a vulture.  
  
'What did you say, Potter?' he growled, then 'on second thoughts, I rather not hear your voice even more than I already have to.'  
  
'Er, yes professor.'  
  
Snape then started to check Harry's eyesight, none too delicately, with occasional 'Ow!' s from Harry, and 'Shut up, boy' s from Snape. Suddenly, just when Snape was peering into Harry's left eye, a look of revulsion on his face, pain flashed through the scar on Harry's forehead, making him sit bolt upright, clutching his forehead.  
  
'Ow, my scar!'  
  
Snape prodded it, hard.  
  
'Ow!'  
  
'Stop moaning, Potter.'  
  
At that very moment, Pigwidgeon decided to swoop through the window, to settle right on . . . Snape's shoulder.  
  
'What? You, you and him?'  
  
The owl yawned, then spoke, 'Of course. Snape has more owl treats in his office than you've ever given me in my life.'  
  
'Owl treats?' asked Harry, bemused.  
  
For some reason, the Potions master looked a little sheepish.  
  
'Well, they do taste quite nice, and now there's a low fat variety,' he said.  
  
'But you're not an OWL.'  
  
Snape's only response was a shrug.  
  
'But, Pigwidgeon - has he given you ALL our letters?' asked Harry. He could think of a fair few that the Potions master really shouldn't have seen.  
  
'Yes, you do think of the most idiotic things to write about, Potter.'  
  
Harry dived, and missed, as Snape promptly jumped out the way.  
  
'You know Potter, I do have other people to see besides you. Here's your prescription, now get out of my sight!' Thrusting a piece of paper at Harry, Snape pushed him out of the room. Harry stared. Was that GREEN JEWELLERY Snape was wearing? *I really did need to get my glasses checked* thought Harry, blinking.  
  
'Peter Peffypoo' called the assistant, who was obviously having difficulty reading Snape's writing.  
  
Harry walked over to the lady at the desk to give in his prescription. She looked strangely . . . glittery, Harry noticed from a distance, and as he got closer, it became apparent that she was none other than . . . Professor Trelawney!  
  
Harry grimaced, and handed over his prescription. To his surprise, she threw it back at him.  
  
'Oh, my dear, my poor dear boy.' She exclaimed. 'I see a dark, dark end to this day's work for you. See how far your prescription travelled. I am afraid that you will not live to collect your new glasses.'  
  
Harry slowly backed away, fighting the urge to run. And backed right into Peter Pettigrew, who dropped the bundle he was carrying on the floor.  
  
'Watch where you're going!' said Pettigrew, who was even more stupid than Harry.  
  
'Wormtail!' Harry gasped. 'You!'  
  
'Uh oh' said Wormtail, promptly turning into a rat, and scurrying off. Leaving the bundle.  
  
A voice came from the bundle: 'Wormtail, my red contact lenses.' Said whatever was wrapped up inside it.  
  
Pettigrew reluctantly turned back into a man, and walked slowly towards the bundle. The Muggles in the room watched curiously as Pettigrew unwrapped the package. Taking a deep breath, Wormtail threw off the last fragment of material, uncovering a thing too loathsome to be described. It had raw shiny skin, and bright white eyes.  
  
'Wormtail, you fool, you've ruined it.' said the thing, 'I need my red lenses for maximum effect. I don't know about you, but I have a reputation to live up to, you know. I mean, what if Rita Skeeter saw me like this. It would be all over the Daily Prophet, and we all know what would happen then, don't we?'  
  
'Master, please forgive me,' begged Pettigrew, 'I'm so sorry, forgive your most loyal servant, master.'  
  
'Lord Voldemort never forgives, Pettigrew, and he never forgets. Eurgh! Stop wiping your nose on my robes! Kleenex isn't that expensive!'  
  
'Sorry, sorry,' Pettigrew grovelled, retreating as Voldemort put in his contacts, saying: 'Kill the crowd, we don't need spectators, do we?'  
  
'AVAD' Pettigrew managed to say before Harry leapt on him, knocking his wand out of his hand.  
  
'Cruciatus' said Voldemort lazily, pointing his wand at Harry. Pettigrew stood still. 'Well, finish it off, Wormtail.' Said Voldemort, ' and then you can come and buy me some more saline solution, I've almost run out.'  
  
'AVADA KEDAVRA!' shouted Pettigrew, and the few Muggles who hadn't run as they saw Voldemort, and the one Muggle who was so deeply engrossed in 'Good Housekeeping' that she'd failed to realize what was going on all died. Harry could do nothing to help, he was writhing on the ground, clutching his scar. Once this had been accomplished, Voldemort lifted the curse off him.  
  
'So, Potter' said Voldemort, very slowly as he was practising his calming yoga breathing, 'what are you doing here?'  
  
'What am I doing?' shrieked Harry.  
  
'You realize we really do need to kill him this time, Wormtail?' asked the thing. 'I mean, due to your negligence he's seen me without red contacts, and without my chalk white make-up. I mean, I know I look pretty scary anyway, but still . . .'  
  
'Yes, master.' Grovelled the small, rat-faced man.  
  
'AVADA KEDAVRA!' roared Voldemort, his wand pointing directly at . . . nothing much. 'Damn, I really need to improve my aim.' He muttered, before again raising his arm.  
  
'Stop!' roared a powerful voice. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It would all be all right now Dumbledore was with him.  
  
'Brother!' cried Dumbledore, running up and hugging . . . Voldemort.  
  
'He's your brother?' shouted Macavity, who had just returned to nick some more glasses.  
  
'Of course,' said Voldemort, 'we're twins. Can't you see the family resemblance?'  
  
'Er . . . no.' said Macavity, leaving, this time carrying a whole cabinet full of designer specs, but tripping over Professor Trelawney, who had fainted, as he tried to get out.  
  
'He's your BROTHER?' screamed Harry.  
  
'Sadly, yes,' muttered Dumbledore, ' and he's holding my favourite Playstation game hostage.'  
  
Voldemort kicked him, 'One more false move, Albus, and the game gets it.' Dumbledore sighed.  
  
'I'm really sorry, Harry.' And in response to a meaningful and warning look from his brother, 'I mean HA HA HA we've got you at last.'  
  
Voldemort muttered something and several strong cords flew out the end of his wand, tying Harry up.  
  
'Yes, yes, we've really got you this time.' Said Voldemort, cackling. He gave Harry an evil stare, one that even Macavity would have been proud of, and pointed his wand at him.  
  
Snape came out of the consulting room. He'd been wondering why no-one had been coming in. He looked at the situation and started edging towards Professor Trelawney, it wasn't clear why. Voldemort gave him one withering glance (which was now pretty effective as Voldemort did have his contact lenses in) and Snape blushed.  
  
'Severus, we all know about your transvestite tendencies, but glittery green jewellery really won't suit you.' Said Voldemort disparagingly.  
  
'Sorry, master.' Said Snape.  
  
'What, you work for him?' asked Dumbledore, incredulously.  
  
'Of course, I mean, I don't kill people that often anymore, though people like Potter here drive me pretty close to it.' he said, kicking Harry.  
  
'But Albus, YOU work for me too now, don't you?' said Voldemort.  
  
'Only cos I want my game back' said Dumbledore sulkily. 'It's not fair.'  
  
'How can you be his twin?' asked Harry, 'You taught him Transfiguration.'  
  
'Well, erm, there was . . . an unfortunate incident. That involved our father and a rather nasty Manticore that was Thomas's pet. He was the Transfiguration teacher who taught us.'  
  
'Albus, for the very last time, I am not Thomas, I am VOLDEMORT.'  
  
'Oh yes.'  
  
'I am LORD Voldemort.'  
  
'Okay, okay. Now PLEASE can I have my game back?'  
  
'Not until you've helped me kill Potter.' Said Voldemort.  
  
Harry tried to wriggle away, but the ropes were very tight, and Professor Trelawney's body was blocking the exit. However, Voldemort was staring disbelievingly at Snape, who was trying on designer women's sunglasses. Dumbledore was (kind of) on his side anyway, so he wouldn't care if Harry did get away.  
  
But Pettigrew had his rat-like eyes on Harry. And he saw what Harry couldn't, that there was a massive serpent gliding towards Harry's back.  
  
'Aaaah, Nagini,' whispered Voldemort, and then in Parseltongue 'Don't eat him yet, I want to kill him first, but soon, my pet, very soon.'  
  
Harry's scar was burning. But suddenly, everything seemed to freeze, as the woman he loved glided into the shop.  
  
Myrtle. Her perfect spots glinted radiantly in the light, her beautiful glasses twinkled, and her greasy hair . . . well, that was just greasy. But that didn't matter to Harry.  
  
In fact, he was so busy staring at her that he didn't notice the roars of 'AVADA KEDAVRA', or the jets of green light zooming towards him, then, incredibly, away. The wizards gasped. The cords fell off him as Myrtle disappeared, leaving him facing a rather angry looking Voldemort.  
  
'What is it about you? What have you got that I haven't?' screamed Voldemort.  
  
'Dunno' said Harry, once again displaying how marvellously articulate he was.  
  
'I know, master.' Said Snape, his mouth full of owl treat. 'It's probably the ropes. You made them, and you're so powerful that we could probably only split them apart with our curses.'  
  
'Yes' said Voldemort. 'I confess I had overlooked that. Ah well, we'll just have to try again.'  
  
'AVADA KEDAVRA' roared Voldemort, then 'Damn, missed' as another charm, quite literally, went out the window to kill a passing pigeon. He then turned around, sharply. Snape was choking on an owl treat. With an exasperated cry, Voldemort turned again to face Harry. *Yoga breathing* he remembered. *You can do this, Voldemort.*  
  
The Potions Master was still choking, and Voldemort screeched, his concentration broken. It gave Harry the time he needed. He got up and ran for his life, throwing the 'Expelliarmus' charm over his shoulder, not bothering to look what was happening. He ran for the nearest shop.  
  
It was enough. Voldemort could not run, Voldemort was too weak to run. He needed his servants to take him. Well, Voldemort would have to wait until their next meeting.  
  
Harry flew back to Hogwarts that night, happily swerving through the forest before returning to the Gryffindor common room. And when he walked up to his dormitory, Myrtle was waiting for him, sitting on his bed.  
  
'Harry', she said, 'I'm pregnant!'  
  
THE END! (Pleeeeeeeeeeeease review! It would make me very happy! (if it wasn't a flame!)) 


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